Lies, Damned Lies and Statistics
by eitoph
Summary: "But then there's that part of him, the part of him that knows they're only half truths. That they're half lies. Lies damned to fail." Tag for 6.01, BB.


**A/N:** I promise I'll be back soon-ish with something longer to make up for my four month absence; this is just me dealing with the premiere. Heh, hope you haven't all forgotten me already ;)

Obviously, this has spoilers through 6.01, but nothing beyond. I'm mostly spoiler-free, so be aware, just in case you feel compelled to make any comments about upcoming episodes.

Finally, mucho thanks go to **Tadpole24** for her help, cheerleading and for generally being awesome.

* * *

(_Lies_)

Caroline Julian likes lies.

A lot.

Probably _too_ much – but then, the story of her second divorce isn't really one you should ever want to hear.

A very large part of this fondness can be related to just how _good_ she is at taking the truth and using it... _artistically_. Her extensive career in lying has spanned the time in New Orleans she'd conveniently _forgotten _about ever knowing who Temperance Brennan was (and more importantly, the unfortunate occasion on which she'd told Booth to fire her ass) to the time she'd spouted untruths about her opinion on Max Keenan's status as a _dangerous criminal_, all in the name of Christmas and feeling puckish.

But not one of these lies had ever provided as much _satisfaction_ as the ones she'd told to ensure both Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan got their pretty little behinds back to the hallowed land of the United States of America.

It had been so _easy _to make it seem as though she was concerned whether or not Camille Saroyan brought about the destruction her own career by categorically pissing off the Powers That Be. To play it off to her star-crossed lovers as though the continued employment of the County Coroner was something she saw as being of the utmost importance.

Because while (deep down) she may be a rather nice person, the inclination to care about that kind of nonsense falls firmly under the umbrella of her very _not nice _exterior.

So instead, she gave them an excuse, a _reason_ to hold high as the one that had brought them back to DC. It would never be the real reason that she'd asked them to return home, and it'd never be the real reason either of _came _home.

That's what it comes down to – the fact that Caroline knows fine and well Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth are not the type of people to abandon a set of responsibilities just because of one vague sat-phone conversation and a host of demands made by someone whose advice they ignore half the time anyway.

Where Booth would speak of honor, of putting his country and its freedom before all else, his lady scientist would speak of earth-changing discoveries and of shaping the very knowledge of the human species. These are not the kind of responsibilities two such dedicated people leave behind because one of their colleagues was dumb enough to piss off the Pentagon. No way, no how.

They came home because they _wanted_ to come home.

She just gave them a push in the right direction. She gave them the words to use when people asked questions.

(She always _was_ good at putting words in people's mouths.)

And it may all seem so complicated – as though each little lie told had forced the creation of a thousand more, just to keep whole house of cards standing – but it's not her place to question the way of the world. It's just her responsibility to make sure her own little corner of it is nicely in order.

And now Booth and Brennan are back? Well, it's all looking a little more _orderly_ now.

Yes, Caroline Julian _likes_ lies.

Very much indeed.

* * *

(_Damned Lies_)

Seeley Booth dislikes lies.

A lot.

Probably _too_ much – but then, the story of his rather... fractured childhood, his time in the armed forces... all that shit – yeah, it's probably not a story you should ever want to hear.

And yet, despite his rather blatant distaste for the activity, he's always been quite good at taking the truth and using it... _artistically_. His extensive career in lying has spanned almost every occasion on which Sweets has asked him about his experiences growing up, to the great deal expertise he demonstrated over a number of years, hiding his love for Temperance Brennan behind late night whiskey, pigs and smurfs, and behind _attagirl_ qualifications.

But not one of these lies had ever _trapped_ him like the ones he'd been left to tell upon his return to DC. Before, he'd always _known_ they were lies – he'd always felt that hollow burn, knowing _he _was a liar.

Not this time.

It had been so _easy _to talk about Hannah, about their relationship and the very real happiness that he'd come to associate with their time spent together. It had been easy to play it off as though his life could be lived in these shades of black and white, an arbitrary _before_ and _after _where his feelings and obligations could be firmly defined.

He'd never intended a word of it as a lie.

But while (on the surface) he and Hannah had been doing really well, that was _over there_ and now he's _over here_.

Over here where Bones is.

Over here where he has to see her every day. Where her talk of fleas and snakes and _dreams_ twists at something inside of him, a part of him he's not sure he could ever ignore...

Over here where it's not as easy to forget.

He hadn't really counted on that.

So he pushes it out there. 'Cause maybe the louder he says it, the _more _he says it... well it has to be true eventually, doesn't it?

But then there's that part of him, the part of him that _knows_ they're only half truths. That they're half lies. Lies damned to fail.

He's going to do his best to ignore that part for now.

After all, Seeley Booth is very good at lying.

He's even good at lying to himself.

Very good indeed.

* * *

(_and Statistics_)

Temperance Brennan is terrible at lying.

Really terrible.

Probably _too_ terrible – but then the story of all the things she _learned _in Maluku, those things she couldn't help but realise about her life in DC (her _home_)... well, it's all certainly a story you'd want to hear. A story you'd never hear were she any good concealing the truth.

Her inability to lie most likely stems from so many years searching for a pure truth – from just how _good _she is at taking facts and treating them _scientifically_. Her extensive search for this truth has spanned from the time it had taken to complete not one, but _three_ doctorates, to the time it had taken to learn her parents' fate. The time taken to find her father and to reconcile the reality of her parents' pasts with all that she'd believed about them growing up.

But not one of these truths had so fundamentally _altered_ her way of perceiving the world than those she'd finally explored during her time in Maluku.

It had been so _hard _to be away - to feel the slow burn of uncomfortable, unfamiliar loneliness – unable to lose herself in her work quite the same way she had in the past. Given all the evidence, the only logical conclusion she could reach was that something about her had _changed_.

She hadn't thought it possible.

But knowing this, recognising this _evolution_ that has taken place, that she'd adapted to a set of changing circumstances rather than allowing herself to be left behind to perish... it's almost like _science_.

(But it's something else too.)

Seven months in Maluku had allowed her the distance, the _objectivity_ that she required as a scientist to conduct an investigation into those things that had driven her to leave. Her experience there was the Control - true to its definition within statistical and experimental design, it had provided her with a series observations not exposed to her Treatment. Not exposed to love and family and Booth...

As a Control would in any experiment, it provided concrete proof her results - those conclusions she'd reached about her life back home - weren't affected by any outside factors.

It allowed her to be _certain_.

To be sure that _home_ is not just the place she goes to sleep at night.

That there really is more than one kind of family. That she should reach out to the people that matter, share a little more of herself. Embrace their position in her life.

That maybe... just, maybe the way she feels about Booth is different to the way she feels about anyone else.

_Anyone _else.

Except...

It just seems, now that she's back – now that Cam seems so _furious_ with her, now that her lab (in both a metaphorical and physical sense) is in _pieces_ and now that Booth is flashing around pictures of his perfect, blonde girlfriend... Well, maybe these are the sorts of things she shouldn't be sharing after all.

These things she'd discovered are the entirely trivial, _emotional _things she's worked her entire adult life to conceal.

Inside of her, a familiar voice is telling her it would be better, _safer_ to tuck these discoveries away in a box. To not let her happiness depend on someone other than herself, to make those same mistakes again.

Except, now that she _knows_, now that these things are all deemed as _facts_ in her mind – well... it's never going to be just as easy as that.

She can't stop the way her face falls when she tells Angela that Booth fell in love overseas. She can't hide the way her eyes light up when Booth talks about having the reflexes of a flea, as though he's _listened_ as she'd explained. She can't help but admit she'd dreamed about her life in DC, their life _together_, here...

Something about her has changed. Something small, and yet, something big.

Something that everyone will be able to see, if they just look closely enough.

Because Temperance Brennan is bad at lying.

Very bad indeed.

* * *

**A/N:** As always, any comments are loved, appreciated and responded too. I'm hoping I haven't fallen off the fic wagon completely... :)


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